


Try to Speak, But Nobody Can Hear

by stellewrites



Series: Maybe the World Won't Fall Apart [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Dimension Travel, Fluff, Hurt Batfam as a whole tbh, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Protective Jason, Shy Tim, Slow Burn, at the beginning at least, but they all feel better by about halfway through, hurt tim, if thats possible under 6k, kinda inspired by 28 days later?, like they don't even speak before they die they're that minor, unexplained dimension travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-27 13:06:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13881468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellewrites/pseuds/stellewrites
Summary: “Wait, what? What are you all talking about? ‘Not your Gotham’? Who are you then?” Jason demanded, taking a step back from the fake Tim.AKATim's real sad, so are the rest of the batfam, but then they all get happy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first jaytim fic, I love this fandom and I wanted to add to it for once. Idk if they're out of character or not, but I tried my best. Some extra info about the fic in the bottom notes, but they're spoilers for this chapter so read 'em after at the end
> 
> Comments/kudos are always appreciated! Including concrit 
> 
> Hit me up on tumblr @stellewrites
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anything and I'm not making any $$$

He’d lost sight of Red Hood almost immediately when they were attacked. Tim should’ve known this was an ambush, but the promise of an abandoned food supply truck at the docks, untouched and only slightly stale, was too good to pass up on. The people that remained in Gotham still relied on Red Robin and Red Hood to help them and the Cave was starting to run low on supplies. Tim hadn’t questioned where Jason had gotten the information from, he’d assumed Jason had overheard some survivors on one of his solo patrols, but maybe he should’ve been more suspicious. 

On their way to the docks, jumping and swinging across rooftops, he’d hoped that just this once it’d go in their favour. After the Hell that’d been the last 2 years, Tim felt like he deserved some sort of break. Though it looked like hope was for fools because they’d been mobbed by a hoard of Crazies as soon as they’d landed in the warehouse. 

Just as it felt as though they’d started to make a dent in the hoard of infected, more and more of them seemed to appear out of nowhere, overwhelming them and separating the vigilantes. Tim had managed to knock enough of the attackers out of his way to make a break for it, knowing that if he stayed he’d run out of energy before he managed to take down even half of them. He found refuge on the roof of a low building close by, and once he’d caught his breath he looked out to the docks, looking for his companion and hoping he wasn’t still inside. The small group of infected that had followed Tim outside soon grew bored of him once they realised they wouldn’t be reaching him anytime soon and turned back to the warehouse doors. It didn’t seem like the number of Crazies was lowering, Tim could hear them snarling and shouting, could see them run past the open warehouse doors, and Tim still hadn’t caught sight of Jason, he started to worry. He wasn’t going to go in and look for him, that’d be suicide, but he would anxiously wait on the rooftop for another forty minutes before heading back to the Cave to wait up for him there. 

The weather was taking a turn for the worse, thick storm clouds building up, thunder crashing and lightning illuminating the Gotham skyline in the distance. _Shit_. This kind of weather always seemed to rile the Crazies up even more, which would make getting home a lot more dangerous, especially considering how dark it had gotten. Tim’s eyes flickered behind his mask, focusing on the slightest movement he saw in his peripheral vision, wishing Jason would come stumbling out from around the corner or appear on an opposite roof or _something_. He didn’t think he could do this alone, the Cave already seemed empty with the two of them, but he’d go insane from the silence if he was left alone. 

Tim suddenly stood up from where he’d been crouched to lessen the bite of the harsh wind. _Hood was probably already back and waiting for him and the reason he wasn’t answering his com was because the weather was interfering_ , Tim tried to convince himself, sharply turning away from the sight of the Crazies leaving the warehouse covered in thick blood. 

_Jason was already at the cave_ , he thought to himself once more before leaping onto the next roof. 

He was half way home when he noticed the lightning seemed to be getting closer to him, as though it was chasing him. And when he stopped to really look, he saw that it was nothing like the usual Gotham lightening. No, the sky was a murky red, becoming richer in colour towards the middle of angrily twisted clouds, instead of its usual thick, grey fog; though it was just as bleak. He couldn’t look away until he saw a flash of lightning, noticing its odd, pink tinge and the chaos it seemed to leave behind. Tim had never seen weather like this in Gotham, maybe the virus affected the Earth as well as the people living on it, he’d have to confer with Jason. A sense of dread filled Tim at the vibrating sound of thunder, he needed to get back to the Cave, like _now_. He’d have no chance if he got stranded out here alone with the infected and this fucked up weather. _Just get back to the Cave_ , he thought to himself, but his footing slipped when he jumped off the edge of the roof. He barely caught himself on the ledge of the opposite building, his hands only just catching on the subtle lip of the roof. He wasn’t sure he’d have time to let go and grab his grappling hook before he’d hit the ground, not that it looked like this building had anything it could hook onto anyway. Red Robin tried to pull himself up, but his grip spasmed at the strain and his fingers started to slip on the wet tiles he was clinging to. He looked down and saw he was several floors up. Best case scenario: he’d only break his leg if he let go, maybe attract a couple of infected that he’d have a bit of trouble fighting off, but manage to glide home within the hour. Worst case: his injuries would be fatal, and with Red Robin gone, he’d be leaving Gotham, and eventually the rest of the world, to ruin. 

He was holding on with his finger-tips when he felt a thunder clap shiver through him, causing his left hand to lose its grip. He felt like the lightning was directly on top of him when he looked up and saw a deep red swirl of clouds above him, he had no chance of pulling himself up with one hand, but he couldn’t bring himself to let go yet. 

“I’m sorry,” He whispered, closing his eyes before he letting his hand go lax, dropping himself from the roof ledge. It felt similar to when he’d first swung through the air as Robin, feeling weightless and free. 

\---

He opened his eyes, expecting to feel extreme pain, but all he had was a light headache. It was still night, though the sky was clear of any red clouds or bright lightning. He felt along his body for any injuries, using the light coming from a streetlamp to double check. He couldn’t believe it when he saw none. Other than his dirty, blood covered suit, he looked fine. 

“What the Hell…?” He whispered to himself. He picked himself up from the wet ground, and after using his grappling hook on a building across the street, he took to using the roof tops again to get back to the Cave. He’d have to run some tests on himself, see if the virus had mixed with his antidote to alter his DNA and give him healing abilities. And though he was distracted by his thoughts, he still noticed how quiet Gotham seemed, there were no infected roaming around, and he could’ve sworn everything looked less trashed than it had before he fell. Tim shook his head, he couldn’t afford to be distracted in case he fell again, the rooftops were still wet, he just needed to get back to the safety of the Cave where he could analyse the storm and himself on what little amount of machinery he could get to work. 

\---

Tim walked into the Batcave, his steps faltering at the sight of the fully operational computer, the screens no longer dusty or cracked. He turned to take in the rest of the cave, noting how the Batmobile still it’s wheels and armour attached, and how the memorial cases holding Bruce, Dick, and Damian’s suits were no longer lined up next to Jason’s old Robin costume, though there was a second case, but it was covered over. Tim looked up towards the entrance to the manor, half expecting it to still be barricaded, like it had been for the last several months. He let out a breath at the sight of the open door. He could feel his panic growing, where the hell was he? This wasn’t his Cave. This wasn’t _his Gotham_. He knew something was different when he woke up, but how things had changed or how he got there, Tim didn’t know. He suspected it had something to do with the red storm, but he couldn’t be sure. He had to check out the rest of the manor, the tests he wanted to run would have to wait.

He gripped his bo staff tighter, ascending the stairs that led to the ground floor of Wayne Manor. He hadn’t been up there for months, after Dick… It felt too big, too lonely, so he’d moved permanently downstairs and invited Red Hood to stay with him, so they could both sleep a little easier with someone watching their backs. He knew Jason wanted to say no, he couldn’t stand his ‘replacement’, but self-preservation won out and they’d been working together, albeit sometimes uneasily, ever since. Until the warehouse on the dock, anyway. 

He paused in the doorway when he saw how clean, and tidy, and _normal_ looking the mansion looked, the last time he’d seen the place it had been turned inside out by looters and the infected. Tim felt panic build in his chest, what the Hell was he doing here? How was he going to get back? Did he even want to go back? Gotham was a lost cause by that point, and he knew the infection had already spread to neighbouring cities, no matter how hard he’d tried to keep it contained. He was so tired, he didn’t want to keep fighting this impossible, uphill battle anymore. He calmed his strained breaths, trying to postpone any panic attacks until he was in a more secure location. He didn’t want to be caught in a compromising position by whoever he found living here. After Damian’s death, Tim had had to learn pretty quick how to control his panic attacks, how to push them back and wait until he wasn’t fighting a group of Crazies to break down. Usually when Jason was on watch at the Cave. Despite Jason’s hostile feelings towards Tim, they had an unspoken agreement to ignore the broken sobs and cries that echoed in the Cave during their turn to sleep. 

Once he deemed himself ok to keep moving, he took careful steps around the corner towards where he remembered the kitchen was when he heard a noise. His heart stopped when he recognised the voices coming from the other end of the room. 

It couldn’t be, he had to see them for himself. 

Slowly, keeping to the shadows, he managed to slip in the room unnoticed. His eyes widening at the sight of Dick and Alfred talking calmly to one another at the end of the kitchen island. Despite knowing he was in an alternate Gotham he didn’t have it in him to hope that they’d still be living here. He hadn’t wanted to deal with the bitter disappointment he would’ve felt if he’d found a different billionaire vigilante living here, or if he’d found that half of his family was dead in this Gotham as well. He thought back to the covered case down in the Batcave, wondering who it could belong to, and imagining the worst. 

“Thanks, Alfred. Soup is exactly what I need, it was freezing during patrol tonight and your food heals better than any medicine,” The young man said with a cheesy smile, gratefully digging into the vegetable soup set in front of where he was sat. A stab of pain grew in Tim’s chest at hearing his oldest brother speak, his tone light and happy. It had been too long since he’d heard his voice and he hadn’t realised just how much he’d missed it until he’d heard it again. He swallowed thickly when Damian sauntered into the room, taking the seat next to Dick, moving the older boy’s crutches out of his way slightly.

“If you hadn’t had made that ridiculous leap to grab me, you wouldn’t need any medicine or Alfred’s help to look after you, Grayson,” The young boy’s disapproval was clear in his tone. 

“You could’ve been hurt, Dami, and I couldn’t let that happen. Not after… You know,” He trailed off, the room quickly becoming silent and solemn as his unfinished sentence was acknowledged. 

“I know,” Damian started gingerly, “Which is why you getting hurt in my stead is no better.” 

“Master Damian is right,” Alfred added, passing a steaming bowl of soup over to the boy, “You shouldn’t put yourself in unnecessary danger due to misplaced guilt, Master Dick.” He placed a comforting hand on Nightwing’s shoulder. 

“Sorry, Alfred.”

Tim couldn’t stop watching, they seemed exactly the same. Just like his old family, but these people _weren’t_ his family. There was probably another Tim Drake somewhere in this universe and he couldn’t take his place, no matter how much he’d love to. Tim hadn’t felt so whole, so calm in such a long time, with the smell of Alfred’s cooking surrounding him, the sound of his family in his ears, and being able to see them comfort each other. Tim knew just this memory could keep him going for a bit longer back in his own Gotham.

He couldn’t help flinching slightly at the sight of Bruce wandering in to check up on his sons. To Tim, he’d been dead for just over a year, but the pain still felt fresh, like a solid kick to the gut. He’d lost count of the amount of times he’d wished he could swap places with Bruce, knowing his father figure would’ve been able to do so much more to help Gotham and its citizens with the time and resources Tim was left with in his collapsing city. He tried to blink away his tears, not wanting to move too much in case he brought attention to himself, he was surprised the three vigilantes across the room hadn’t felt his eyes on them, but they probably weren’t as paranoid as Tim had grown to be. 

“How are you feeling, Dick?” Bruce asked, looking down at his first son’s leg hidden under the island. 

“Well, my leg hurts, but other than that, I’ve only got a couple of scrapes, so I’m fine. Just glad we all got out in one piece. Can’t say the same for the bad guys, Jason was really tearing into them. Where is Jaybird, anyway? Thought he came back with you.” 

“He did, he’s letting off some more steam in the training room, you know how he gets when its closer to their anniversary,” Bruce answered. Tim didn’t know how he managed to miss Bruce _and_ Jason back down in the Batcave, he was just glad he stuck to the shadows and made his way upstairs quickly, instead of sticking around to note down the differences between the two Gothams. 

“It’s almost as bad as the date of- of _his_ death,” They young boy stumbled towards the end. Tim figured they were talking about Jason’s own death, a difficult subject for the family. 

“I’m going to go down and get him if he doesn’t come up himself in twenty minutes, I’m not going to let him run himself down again,” The older man’s eyes held a deep sadness that was mirrored on the faces of the three other men in the room. Tim was surprised to hear that Bruce and Jason were close enough for him to feel confident enough to talk to Jason alone without arguing. 

Dick nodded, “Do you think he’ll talk about it this year? Last year was rough, _really_ rough.”

“He’ll talk when he’s ready Master Dick, we can’t push him,” Alfred said firmly, though he looked just as worried as Dick. 

“Perhaps if we talked about… _Him_ more often than just during the anniversaries, Jason would be more comfortable with the subject. Perhaps we all would,” The young boy looked down to his lap almost shamefully, “I can’t even say his name, so how can we expect Todd to do the same?” 

Tim felt a knot form in his stomach, who were they talking about? Where was this Gotham’s version of Tim? None of them seemed worried or surprised that he wasn’t here and Tim was desperate to find out why. 

“Damian’s right, it’s unfair for us to expect Jay to just open up when we avoid speaking about…. About Tim at all times, like he’s some sort of dirty secret and not a part of this family,” Dick said, confirming Tim’s suspicions. He pulled Damian into his side with an arm across his shoulders, trying to comfort his youngest brother. 

Tim’s throat went dry at the mention of his death. How did it happen? When? He knew it had been more than a year ago from what he had heard, it was coming up to an anniversary that reminded them of him, but it wasn’t the date of his death? Tim had the sudden and overwhelming need to know every detail about the version of himself that had lived here. He let out a ragged breath at the sudden thought that he could stay here with no guilt, he wouldn’t be swapping places with another version of himself, or have to live in the shadows lest the press get word of two Tim Drakes living at the Wayne Manor. He could continue to live where this version of Tim had left off. He wouldn’t have to watch his back 24/7, avoiding the infected and the ghosts of his family alike. He wouldn’t be alone. 

Tim hadn’t realised he’d closed his eyes until he snapped them open at the sound of his name, an uncertain rasp coming from Bruce. 

“Tim… Is- Is that you, Tim?” All eyes were on the third Robin, they must have heard his harsh sigh and once they looked for him, the shadows were no longer enough to hide in. His heart thudded in his chest at the disbelieving looks on their faces. He could only imagine they were going through something similar to what he had when he first saw Dick and Alfred. 

Tim took a hesitant step forward, holding his collapsed staff loosely in one hand, watching how their eyes widened at his battered appearance. His uniform was torn and cracked in certain areas he was unable to repair and he knew his face was covered in dirt and blood from the Crazies he’d fought before waking up here. To them it probably looked like he’d fought his way through Hell, and they wouldn’t be too far off. 

“Yeah, it’s me, Bruce,” He croaked, tears springing to his eyes. He hadn’t said any of their names out loud in so long, he could only hope this wasn’t some dream or hallucination caused by the drop from the roof, Tim didn’t know what he’d do if they disappeared now. 

“It can’t be…” Dick whispered, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears as he shook his head. “You- We buried you, I saw your body with my own eyes.”

Damian stepped towards him, reaching his hand out as if to check Tim was really there, but Bruce dragged him back at the last second, a hard look coming over his face. 

“Alfred, get Jason.”

“Are you sure that’s wise, sir?” The butler asked shakily, his eyes never leaving Tim. The young man tried to smile softly at him, but it was like Tim had forgotten how. He could tell it came off as more of a grimace than anything reassuring when he saw Dick’s frown deepen slightly. 

“Now, Alfred, _please_. Jason will be able to tell if this is the real Tim or not,” He explained, noting the confused frown form on Tim’s forehead at his words. Why would Jason be able to tell any better than the others? 

“Yes, sir,” Tim watched the elderly man leave before turning back to the three vigilantes. 

“Not to mention, he has the most experience with coming back from the dead out of all of us,” Dick tried to joke, though the hard look from Bruce stopped him from chuckling at his own bad joke. 

“It’s me, Bruce. But I’m not back from the dead. I’m not the Tim you knew,” Tim cut in, trying to explain, “I’m not from this Gotham.”

“What do you mean you’re not from this Gotham? How’d you get here?” Dick asked, moving to stand with his crutches. 

“I don’t know. Last thing I remember is some crazy, red storm, falling from a roof, and then I woke up here,” He shrugged, seeing Bruce’s frown deepen at his words. 

“That’s not good enough. How do I know you aren’t lying? You could be a danger to us and I’m just meant to take your word that you _don’t know_ how you got here?” Bruce demanded, he voice was hard, but Tim could see he was affected by the sight of his second dead son and was trying to keep himself together. 

“You could always tell when I was lying, Bruce. And you can take a blood test if you still don’t believe me,” Tim offered, and saw how Bruce's face softened slightly. 

“How did you know this wasn’t your Gotham?” Damian asked from beside his father, his arms crossed to hide his shaking hands. 

Tim didn’t know how to answer. Did they know about the virus? Had they already defeated it or was Tim here to help them prepare for the end of the world? 

“What do you know about RVI?” He asked warily. 

“You mean the virus my grandfather created? What about it?” Damian asked, looking at his father and brother, not understanding why Tim was asking about it. The virus had only just been completed when they stopped Ra’s. They’d only had one casualty, but it was enough for the vigilantes to feel like they’d failed. 

“You managed to keep it contained?” Hope started to leak into Tim’s voice, he didn’t understand the uncomfortable looks they were sharing. They should be happy that they stopped it, Tim would’ve given anything to have stopped the virus at the very beginning. “What? Why are you all looking like that? Tell me you kept it contained,” His voice got more desperate towards the end when no one answered him. 

“We kept it contained, Babybird.”

Tim’s head snapped to the door where Jason was stood, his chest heaving after running from the Batcave to the kitchen, his hands flexing as he tried desperately to hold himself back from throwing his arms around his previously dead boyfriend. Jason’s voice had wavered over the old nickname, his eyes flickering as he took in Tim’s beaten down appearance, from the deep bags under his eyes, to the dried blood on the back of his knuckles and the toes of his boots. 

“What happened to you, baby?” He whispered, letting himself step closer, enough so the younger man was within arm’s reach. He wanted to step closer, but he saw how Tim had tensed, his grip subtly shifting around his bo staff. 

“The Rage Infection, you didn’t stop it, did you?” Bruce asked, cutting off any reply Tim was going to make to being called ‘baby’ by Jason Todd, of all people. 

“No. No, we didn’t, and I’ve been paying the price ever since. I could tell this wasn’t my Gotham because there were no infected and… And you’re _all alive_ ,” Tim said choking back tears. 

“Wait, what? What are you all talking about? ‘Not your Gotham’? Who _are_ you then?” Jason demanded, taking a step back from the fake Tim. 

“Jay, it’s _still_ Tim. He’s just from another world? Universe? We don’t know yet,” Dick explained, still not entirely sure where this Tim had come from. “All we know is that the last year and a half have been a Hell of a lot different for him.”

“More than likely longer going by how confused Tim looked when you called him by Master Timothy’s old nickname,” Alfred added, pushing Dick back into a chair as he walked back into the kitchen. 

“Why don’t we ask him some questions about his life and see if his answers line up with what we know about our Drake? That way we can figure out where things changed,” Damian suggested. 

“I think we should let Master Timothy shower and get changed before we start interrogating him, don’t you?” Alfred asked rhetorically. They all quickly looked over Tim, noting the tired way he was holding himself up, the blood and mud that caked his suit and face, and the smell that accompanied his dirty appearance. 

“Right. We’ll be in downstairs when you’re finished, Tim,” Bruce nodded, leading his sons out of the kitchen as Alfred took Tim upstairs to his room. 

\---

Tim took his time in the shower, not wanting to have to answer their questions. He didn’t want them to realise he was nothing like their Tim, or have them find a way to send him back to his Gotham when they stopped wanting him around. 

Ever since Gotham turned into an even bigger shit show than usual, and Tim had locked himself in the cave, he’d had to have cold showers, not wanting to waste energy on heating the water. He relished in the heat of the water in the mansion, the soft smells of his favourite shampoo and soaps. His muscles seemed to loosen, the tension held in them unknotting and leaving his body under the steady pressure of the water. He could stay there for hours, but he knew his family could only be so patient. 

He quickly dried himself and dressed in the clothes he’d found laid out on the end of the bed, before heading down the Batcave. 

“Ok, so biggest difference is obviously the RV Infection, but from the sounds of it, you guys think things were different before that. So, ask away,” Tim said once he’d gotten comfortable on a chair near the large computer screens. They all stood – or sat in Tim and Dick’s case - in a misshapen semi-circle in front of the computer, with Tim at the centre of the arch, everyone else spread around him. 

“We dated,” Jason said immediately, trying to lean casually against the table a few feet away from Tim, but he couldn’t keep his eyes of the young man, needing to see his reaction to the new information. 

“Wh- We did what?” Tim asked, shocked. Looking wide eyed at everyone gathered, trying to gage if Jason was lying or not. “Dating? Us?” 

Jason laughed bitterly, “I guess we know something else that’s different, huh?” 

“I thought we agreed to ease him in to the knowledge of your relationship, Jason,” Bruce chided his second son, frowning from where he stood facing everyone. 

“Yeah, well, I couldn’t fucking stand the idea of waiting. And obviously he doesn’t care about me, so no harm done, right?” Jason said hoarsely, avoiding Tim’s gaze. 

“I care about you, Jason,” Tim said quietly, but firmly, gaining the older boy’s attention, “Even before the virus, when you’d be trying to kill me, I still cared about you. And then after, you were the last one left, we only had each other. But you hated me even then, sometimes I thought you might hate me more than you wanted to survive,” He said, not knowing what to do with the heartbroken look on Jason’s face. 

“How many times did Jason, _your Jason_ , try to kill you?” Dick asked hesitantly. 

“I don’t know, four or five times, I think,” Tim said, absently rubbing at a scar on his abdomen from when Jason had stabbed him. 

“Jesus, Babybird, no wonder you flinched when I got close to you before,” Jason said, his eyes watery. “I’m not proud of it, but I tried to hurt my Tim, as well, when I first came back. But I worked through the Pit’s influence after that, I couldn’t deal with the rage all the time,” He clenched his hands around the edge of the table until his knuckles were white, letting them go lax when he leant into the hand Dick rested on his shoulder. 

Damian changed the subject, giving Jason time to collect himself, “You were in your Red Robin suit, like our Tim, but were you a part of the Teen Titans?” 

“I was their leader,” Tim smiled sadly at the memory of his friends, “Are they… Are they all ok?” He asked, wanting to see his best friends’ faces again after going so long without them. 

“Yeah, they’re all fine, Tim,” Dick smiled, “They’ll be excited to know you’re here, or, at least, that a version of you is.” 

Tim nodded. “I’ll have to visit them before I leave.”

“You’re _leaving_?” Jason asked, staring intensely at the younger vigilante.

“Where are you going?” Bruce asked carefully, stepping towards his youngest adopted son.

“W-well, I figured you guys wouldn’t want me sticking around, y’know? I’m a walking, talking reminder of someone you lost. No one wants that,” Tim tried to shrug casually, but his family didn’t fall for it. 

“Master Timothy, we would never send you back to your own Gotham unless you wanted to go, you’ll always be welcome here,” Alfred said comfortingly. 

“Yeah, no offense, Timbo, but you looked like Hell when you first arrived. And you said you were alone there, why the fuck would we ever make you go back?” Dick nodded along to Jason’s words. “You’re stuck with us.” 

Tim had a small smile on his face as he looked around at his family, even Damian was smiling back. 

“Ok, I’m stuck with you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final part! I hope it's as good as you're all hoping :) 
> 
>  
> 
> Send me prompts or come talk to me about jaytim at my tumblr @stellewrites

It had been six months since Tim had arrived in the alternate Gotham and he’d never been happier. Bruce had managed to spin some story to the press about Tim going missing for over a year, only _presumed_ dead, hence the funeral, and the Gotham public ate it up, glad to have the Drake heir back. 

After he got used to a calmer Gotham City, and having his family back, he saw his friends again, feeling overwhelmed by their love, but in a good way. And when an anniversary for someone’s death came around, they all found it just that little bit easier to deal with, knowing they’d been given a second chance. 

When he first started to patrol with Dick and Jason, he realised he needed to hold himself back a lot more than he used to. After spending so long fighting to survive, his muscle memory had forgotten what it was like to pull his punches to just incapacitate his enemies. But, once he started training, he got better and was allowed to patrol on his own again, though he preferred to be in some sort of team, and checked up on everyone through their coms. Old habits die hard, and Tim was determined to keep his family safe this time round. Luckily, his family had the same idea about him, and appreciated his chatter on the coms when they weren’t on an important op. 

He'd grown closer to Jason out of the vigilante suits as well, wanting to know how this Jason differed to the angry, young man Tim used to know. After spending a few weeks around him, Tim could safely say they were like completely different people. Sometimes he’d still flinch when Jay came too close to him or moved to fast, but a lot of the time, Tim had a hard time connecting the two different Jasons together. 

They’d sit in the library, enjoying each other’s company as they read in silence. Though one night Tim was too tired from patrol to keep his eyes open, but too keyed up to sleep. He moved to sit next to Jason, leaning his head against the arm rest of the couch, letting his sock clad feet rest against Jason’s thigh, and asked him to read out loud to Tim. Jason was shocked at first, but quickly recovered, not wanting to pass up on this intimate moment. He read from his book until he was sure the younger boy was asleep. Knowing how light Tim slept, he didn’t bother trying to move him to his bed, he just covered them both with the blanket from the back of the sofa. He woke up the next morning with a crick in his neck, but the soft smile Tim gave him in the morning light made it worth it. 

It was another five and a half months after that when they kissed for the first time. It was just a couple of weeks shy of the fateful day Tim arrived in their Gotham and he was anxious. What if the swap only lasted for a year? They still didn’t know what caused it or how he got here or why, and Tim hated the uncertainty of it all. He was working himself into a panic attack one day when he felt hands on his face and heard a soft, deep voice in his ear telling him to match his breaths with the body in front of him. After a while he managed to calm his breaths and slow his mind down enough to recognise Jason’s worried face in front of him. 

“You ok, Babybird?” Tim had grown to love that nickname, and more importantly, the man who said it. He nodded at Jason, reaching up to wipe his face of his tears and snot. He always felt so gross and exhausted after a panic attack, and knew that the hands wrapped around his arms were the only thing keeping him from collapsing at that moment. “What’s got you so worked up, huh?” Jason asked, leading Tim towards a seat before kneeling in front of him, pushing his hair out of his eyes. 

“I don’t want to go back,” He whispered.

“What? Baby, you’re not going anywhere, I _promise_. Nothing’s changed since you’ve been here, right? No portals opening, no weird, red storms, nothing,” Jason pulled him into his arms, holding him tightly. “And even if you did go back there, I wouldn’t stop until I got you back. None of us would, we love you too much.” 

Tim sniffled, wrapping his own arms around the older boy and hiding his face against his neck, whispering, “Thanks, Jay.”

“Anything for you, Babybird. You know that.”

Tim paused. He thought about how his feelings for Jason had developed over the past eleven months, how he leant into Jason’s touches, and watched him across the room, his smile taking Tim’s breath away, making warmth bloom in his stomach. 

But he also figured that kissing Jason directly after having a panic attack wouldn’t be received too well, so he decided to wait until a more appropriate moment. That moment just happened to be later that night. 

They were both sat in Jason’s room, Tim’s head resting on the older boy’s shoulder as he read along with Jay’s low rumble. He looked up at Jason from under his eyelashes, appreciating the way the man’s nose bumped near the middle from having broken it repeatedly, how his blue eyes seemed to shine in the dim light of his bedside lamp, the slight crease between his brows, and the shadow of stubble he hadn’t bothered shaving that morning. 

Jason was in the middle of a sentence when he realised that Tim wasn’t concentrating on the book anymore and was instead looking at him, he turned to ask what was wrong when Tim rose from his slouch just enough to gently press their lips together. Jason immediately closed his eyes and kissed back; he’d missed the feel of Tim’s soft mouth against his own, and it seemed that this Tim was just as shy as the other when it came to kissing. Jason dropped the book off to the side before he leaned over the smaller boy, deepening the kiss. He ran his tongue teasingly across Tim’s lower lip, urging him to let him in, and groaning when he did. Jason held his body slightly above Tim, not wanting to crush him during their first kiss. Tim ran his hands up along Jason’s rib cage before wrapping them around his back, pulling him as close as possible, making Jay chuckle into Tim’s mouth.  
They separated when they both needed to take a deep breath, both panting at how passionate the simple kiss had gotten. 

Tim started giggling, running his hands lightly against Jason’s back, his fingers drawing random patterns over his shirt. Jason smiled, he loved seeing Tim this happy, especially after having a rough day, and to know that he was the cause of it made his heart beat faster. He leant forward to kiss Tim chastely, not wanting to push him into making out again before they talked a bit about what just happened. He brushed Tim’s hair out of his face, gazing down with a fond and adoring look in his eyes. 

“What was that, baby?” He asked, resting on his left arm as his right hand stroked Tim’s face gently. 

“Just really like you, and I like spending time with you,” Tim said simply, before smiling cheekily, “I figured it could only get better if we started kissing and I knew you wouldn’t make the first move, so I had to,” He shrugged, biting at Jason’s thumb when he trailed across his bottom lip. 

“Well, I’m definitely not complaining,” Jason chuckled, leaning back down to steal another kiss. “Does this mean we’re boyfriends or…?” He asked unsure, not wanting to assume and push too far. 

“Yeah, I’d like that. Do you wanna be boyfriends?” Tim asked, his wide eyes looking up at Jason. 

“I can’t think of anything I’d like more, Babybird,” The older boy grinned. 

“Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to tie up all the loose ends, but if there's something I haven't covered, tell me and I'll try to fix it 
> 
> I'm thinking I might write a sequel were it's the same story, but from Jason's perspective? Idk if any of you would want that or not, maybe say in the comments? I'd cover the other Tim's death, Jay dealing (or not dealing) with it, Jay meeting the new Tim, and maybe a few years in the future? 
> 
> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm gonna post the final bit tomorrow, its about 2k of jaytim fluff tbh 
> 
> I wasn't sure if I made it obvious enough (or at all) at the beginning, but Jason had kind of given up and purposely led them into a trap in order to kill them both, but also give Tim a fighting chance. Like he didn't feel like he could kill Tim himself anymore, not only because he'd failed all the times prior, but also because he'd kind of become attached and hated himself for it and hated Tim for it. But Tim didn't want to admit that Jason had betrayed him to himself or the fact that Jason was dead because he didn't think he'd be able to stay sane if he was let on his own. And yada yada, you know the rest 
> 
> Oh also, alternate Tim died stopping the virus, idk how exactly, but that's what I was trying to hint at
> 
> And our Tim calls it 'the Cave' because he couldn't stand any reminders of Bruce/Batman after he died


End file.
